Yesterday we took ColtonColton aka: Moose, Duece, Colt, CJ
Age: 3
Favorite Word: Fart
Hobbies:  Playing in the dirt, setting off fire alarms at preschool and bossing people around.
Best Qualities:  The sweetest disposition this side of the Mississippi. and went to our favorite little breakfast spot.  To entertain him we brought along the Toys R Us section from the paper.  While we waited for our food, he carefully studied each page and after much contemplation, would point to a toy that he would like us to put in his letter to Santa.  The letter, by Colt’s instruction, will be handed to the jolly old fat man by my husband BECAUSE HELLS NO my kid is NOT sitting on the crazy ass lap of some stranger dressed in a red felt suit.

Due to my ability to freely throw around foul language, like here and here, I want to state for the record that Colton didn’t use the words “hells no or crazy ass.”  I added those for affect, but if he knew those words, he would have used them. He is PETRIFIED of Santa and has reminded us at least once a week since last December, when we tried to force him to climb up on the jolly lap of some sweaty pretender at the mall, that he will not be partaking this year.

Breakfast progressed nicely.  I gorged my face with a chorizo omelet, home fries and a GIANT blueberry muffin, and “Um can I get an extra side of bacon” because the two pieces that come with my meal will NOT cut it.  We finished eating and were awaiting the check when the sugar from Colt's pancakes kicked in...

I interrupt this story for a nagging wife moment.  JJJ aka: Depends on my mood.
What I love:He looks good in a cowboy hat or a business suit and wears them both daily. But not together, that would be creepy.
Hobbies: Building furniture, remodeling homes, playing sports with our kids, laughing with me. Seriously. allowed Colton to pour his own syrup. OH. MY. GOD. NOT POUR HIS OWN SYRUP?  I watched HORRIFIED as the syrup just kept pouring and pouring and pouring and finally said, “That’s WAY too much syrup.” I added sweetie on the end to seem less nagging.  Not very effective.  J gave me the “I know what I am doing jackass” look and said, “It’s fine, we will just mix it around.” So,what I am trying to say here is that Colt may have had far too much sugar and if he did, that is definitely what caused him to lose his freaking mind and that was SO not my fault. I’m just saying.

Aaaaaaanyway...Colton starts behaving like a caged hyena at the breakfast table and we are doing our best to keep him entertained.  It becomes quickly clear that we are losing the battle and my husband, inspired by our Toys R Us moment of earlier, blurts out, “Colton I am watching you and guess what?  SO. IS. SANTA.”  Colt immediately stopped his craziness and sat as still as an elf who has just been caught with Mrs. Clause and let’s just say those little green pants were not where they should have been.  That is so wrong, but I just can’t bring myself to change it. My apologies.

Everyone in the restaurant went back to eating (and talking about what a horrifying child we have, WE CAN HEAR YOU BUTTHOLES), but at least they stopped staring. I high-fived J over Colton’s head and we both whispered a collective, “YES.”  This is the greatest time of year.  The Santa threat.  MY GOD it’s the greatest thing since someone invented breakfast cereal.  Think about THAT.  What would you do without breakfast cereal every morning?

We spent a lovely family day together and elated after my Colts kicked some Patriots butt, actually it was more like a Bellichick Christmas present, but whatever, we won, J and I went to bed. At about 2:00 in the morning Colton came running into our room. I was too tired to get up and walk him back to his room, so I sat up just long enough for him to climb behind me and position himself in the middle of J and I and then dropped back down on my pillow. Colton tucked his tiny feet and hands underneath me to warm them up, I snuggled him in and back to dreamland we both went.

Over the next several hours Colton would awaken me every 10 - 15 minutes with a little yelp or a kick or a slam to my face with his flailing arm. How does a three year old channel the strength of the Incredible Hulk in the middle of the damn night? It was clear he was having nightmares but he wasn’t waking up so there was nothing I could do but try and get some sleep.

Shortly before 4:00 a.m I had finally fallen back asleep when Colton had what was clearly his Nightmare Crescendo and started crying out in his sleep, “No mama, No.”  Exhausted, I couldn’t even move. J quickly jumped up, put his arms around Colton and said, “It’s okay Colt.  PapaJJ aka: Depends on my mood.
What I love:He looks good in a cowboy hat or a business suit and wears them both daily. But not together, that would be creepy.
Hobbies: Building furniture, remodeling homes, playing sports with our kids, laughing with me. Seriously. is here.”  Colt looked up at him frightened out of his complete mind and said, “Please don’t let mama call Santa.  I don’t want her to.” 

OMG. How did I get to be the bad guy? I SO didn’t start this.  J did.  With the whole sugar high and Santa’s gonna spank you crap. What?  He didn’t say spank?  Weird. Are you sure?

I am the one who didn’t get to sleep all night.  All I did was high-five J. It was his idea to bring up the whole Santa thing and there he was comforting our little guy with this giant hero routine. “It’s okay bud.  Mama won’t call Santa.”  PUH-LEASE.

So, J had to travel up north this morning for business and I have spent the alone time printing out photos of Santa Clause, gluing J’s face on them and placing them all over the house.  I can’t wait to pick Colton up from school.  Who is your hero now buddy?